


The Trials & Tribulations Of Reluctant Heroes

by mountain_born



Series: The Marvelous Tale of an Agent, an Archer, and an Assassin [47]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Doctor Who/Avengers Crossover Fusion, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 21:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountain_born/pseuds/mountain_born
Summary: Clint and River would have been perfectly happy to keep flying under the radar as the “mystery Avengers.”  A certain Rising Tide hacker had different ideas.  For a pair of agents used to working in the shadows, being in the spotlight is going to take some getting used to.





	The Trials & Tribulations Of Reluctant Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thanks and kudos to my amazing beta and co-writer **like-a-raven**! _A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Smithsonian_ was just the dose of fun this phase needed. If you haven’t read it yet, go forth and enjoy (and probably get a lot of popular Broadway songs stuck in your head).
> 
> Since I started planning and plotting out this alternate universe shortly after the release of the first _Avengers_ movie (has that really been six years ago?) my rule of thumb for the movies and shows that came out afterward has always been, “Cherry pick what works and don’t worry too much about the rest.” Because it’s really been the only way to keep from being overwhelmed by plot points.
> 
> I have been fortunate to find ways to incorporate most of the wonderful characters from Agents of SHIELD, but always felt a little bad that I never found a place for Skye, since she’s such a central character in the show. Then this scenario presented itself, and with it the perfect opportunity to work her in. 
> 
> Happy reading! I hope you enjoy it. And for those of you who are in the path of Hurricane Florence, please stay safe this week.

_November 2012_  
_SHIELD Headquarters, New York_

_Saturday_

It started with a t-shirt.

Clint rolled his head from side to side as he keyed in the access code to his and River’s quarters. He’d just spent an hour on the sparring mats with Cap. For any ordinary human being (and Clint didn’t mind acknowledging that that was exactly what he was) hand-to-hand combat with Captain America was going to be a challenging proposition. The US Army hadn’t been fucking around when they’d built enhanced strength into their super-soldier serum.

Fortunately, Clint’s main asset in a fight had never been brute strength. His technique relied on speed, dodging and deflecting blows, and then hitting quickly and precisely where it would hurt. Having preternatural aim and training in circus acrobatics helped. It had been a good match. Clint had gotten his share of licks in, but Christ his entire body felt like lead now.

River looked up with a smile when he stepped inside. She was standing at the small island that separated the kitchen area from the living room, folding laundry. _Avengers Behind the Scenes: Yes, we roll our own socks._

“There you are,” River said. “How’d it go?”

“Good. Exhausting.” Clint emphasized his point by dropping his gym duffle on the floor and falling backwards onto the sofa. “Cap wanted to know if we wanted to meet up for dinner in the mess hall. Say around six?”

“Sounds good to me,” River said, shaking the wrinkles out of a nightshirt and efficiently folding it into a tidy rectangle. 

Clint shifted, settling a little more comfortably on the sofa, and admired the view as River worked her way through the small pile of clean clothes. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders and the light from the window turned the honey brown to gold. It highlighted the freckles on her nose, too, which were Clint’s favorite feature. Well, _one_ of his favorite features he thought as his eyes drifted downward.

River shifted the laundry basket to the side and Clint was suddenly distracted by the front of River’s shirt. “What are you wearing?” he asked.

River, who had started stacking the folded clothes back in the laundry basket, looked down at her shirt. Clint had initially thought that it was a standard black SHIELD t-shirt, an item of clothing that both he and River owned in spades. But this shirt was emblazoned with a stylized red claw inside a red circle, and the word _Talon_ was written underneath it in red block print.

“Do you like it?” River grinned. “Bobbi sent it. She ran across some guy in Los Angeles who’s making them in his garage. She sent one for you, too. Yours is purple and has an arrow on it.”

“Avengers t-shirts?” Clint couldn’t help the note of mild horror in his voice. And seriously, _purple?_

Of course, he knew that this was happening. The planet had been attacked by aliens, half of Manhattan had been leveled, but the American compulsion to merchandise marched on. Agent Miller had conducted a short briefing on the subject last month (before the mess in DC and his unceremonious reassignment) most of which Clint had squirmed through out of sheer discomfort. 

So far it had been mostly small stuff: New York street vendors selling home-printed Avengers memorabilia and local coffee shops naming drinks after members of the team. Halloween had been interesting. The local news had done a whole segment on the hundreds of kids in the five boroughs who had hit the streets dressed as Avengers. Clint hadn’t minded that so much, because who could mind cute kids in Halloween costumes? But Agent Miller had talked about lines of toys and posters and school supplies, and frankly the whole thing made Clint want to crawl into a hole from embarrassment. 

Rogers and Stark had been unfazed, but then they were used to stuff like this. Thor had just looked amused by the whole thing. When you were the crown prince of an alien planet, the prospect of being an action figure must be pretty small potatoes. Banner had squirmed right alongside Clint. River had been more stoic, but she’d twirled her pen over and over which (to Clint) was a clear sign that she was uncomfortable. 

She must have gotten over her aversion since then.

“Avengers t-shirts are nothing new at this point,” River pointed out. “Those started cropping up right after the battle, remember?”

“Yeah, but you’re _wearing_ this one,” Clint replied.

“Sure I am.” River grinned and pointed to the logo. “It’s mine. It has my name on it.”

“This is funny now? I thought we hated this stuff.”

River sighed, came over, and sat down in Clint’s lap. He immediately felt the raincloud that had been forming over his head recede slightly.

“I’m not wild about it, no,” River said, lacing her hands together behind his neck. “But it’s happening whether we like it or not, so I figure I have two options: I can either get upset over it or I can laugh over it. I’m choosing to laugh over it.” She smiled fondly at Clint as she ruffled one hand through his hair. “Because, love, we’re going to be sunk if we both get upset over it.”

Clint automatically leaned his head into her hand, relaxing without meaning to. Damn, she was good.

“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t get so bent out of shape?” he asked. His eyes drifted shut as River started drawing circles at the base of his skull with her fingertips. 

“Not at all,” River said. “Neither one of us ever expected to be like Cap or Stark. We just did our jobs and wound up with people calling us heroes, with all the weirdness that brings along with it. As far as I’m concerned you can bend yourself into any shape you like.” Clint could hear the smile in her voice. “Just try not to get stuck that way, okay?”

Clint snorted, mostly in amusement. “I’ll do my best.”

“And as for the shirt. . .” Clint opened his eyes to find that River had a wicked and very familiar gleam in hers. “There’s a very easy way to deal with that.”

“Oh?”

He was pretty sure he knew what River had in mind and it was confirmed when she reached for his hands and guided them to the hem of the shirt.

“Just get rid of it,” she said.

Clint grinned. It looked like even Avengers t-shirts had a silver lining.

*****

_Sunday_

Phil knocked on the door of Clint and River’s quarters at 0730. Technically this was a day off for his agents, but Phil was fairly certain that Clint would already be up, early-bird that he was. Sure enough, Clint answered the door still in pajama pants and a t-shirt, blinking in apparent surprise at seeing Phil at his door and wearing a suit.

Clint looked him up and down. “Oh, Jesus. What’s up?”

Apparently _early morning_ plus _suit_ plus _unannounced visit_ spelled trouble.

“Astute powers of observation, as always,” Phil replied with a wry smile. “I need to talk to you guys about something. Can I come in?”

Phil himself had gotten the call about two hours ago, and had had to hold himself back from calling Clint and River right away. Instead he had made himself wait until a reasonable hour to come talk to them. If he had to come bearing bad news, he might as well do it when they were rested.

Clint had already made coffee. While he went to nudge River out of bed, Phil got down three mugs and the cream from the refrigerator. River appeared yawning, with bedhead and wearing her bathrobe. (River was _not_ a morning person.) She smiled with gratitude when Phil handed her a mug, but her eyes were already sharpening.

“Phil? Not that I don’t always love to see you, but dare I ask what brings you by so early on our day off?” she asked.

“It’s an Avengers thing, isn’t it?” Clint added, stirring sugar into his own cup of coffee. “Did we get a mission?”

“It’s an Avengers thing, more or less,” Phil replied. “But it’s not a mission.” His agents were watching him expectantly. “Look, there’s no good way to say this. Your identities were leaked to the public in the early hours of this morning. It’s all over the internet as we speak.”

The media and the general public already knew about Clint and River, of course. They knew about _Hawkeye_ and _Talon_ , agents of SHIELD, Avengers, and Heroes of New York. But beyond that the two “mystery Avengers” had largely remained, well, mysteries. Up until now, anyway.

“What?” Clint said.

“How?” River added.

“SHIELD was hacked last night,” Phil said. “They targeted your personnel files. What they got was all Level One, but they have your names and your I.D. photos, and they’ve made them public.”

“How the fuck does _SHIELD_ get hacked?” Clint asked.

He sounded pissed. Phil didn’t blame him. Phil was pissed too. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that all of SHIELD was pissed. Not only had two of their best agents been targeted, being hacked by civilians was just thoroughly fucking embarrassing.

“By a very good hacker,” Phil replied. “It was one of the members of a group that SHIELD’s been chasing, the Rising Tide.”

“I’ve heard about them,” River said. “That’s the group that May and Bobbi are trying to hunt down. They’re tracking leads in Los Angeles.”

“And Los Angeles is where this particular hack originated,” Phil said. This part, at least, was good news. “The Rising Tide is a loosely organized group with members all over the world, but the Los Angeles faction has become very active over the last few months. The thing about hacking into secure systems is that every hack is an opportunity for the authorities to track them. So far, they’ve been careful, but now they’ve hacked SHIELD. According to Agent Moretti, that’s like robbing someone’s house and leaving a trail of red paint. This is the hack that’s going to get them caught.”

“One hack too late,” Clint said darkly. River frowned in concern and laid one hand on his arm.

Phil sighed. “Yeah. I’m afraid the damage here has already been done. The official SHIELD statement acknowledging the two of you as Avengers will hit the news this evening. But, kid, this was bound to happen sooner or later. It’s kind of amazing that we’ve made it seven months without your real names getting out.”

SHIELD had been working to guard Clint and River’s identities while they eased themselves into this new phase in their careers. But they had known (well, Phil had known) that the anonymity couldn’t last forever. The Avengers Initiative had never been intended to be a shadow force. One of the reasons Fury had established it was so that the world would have heroes to look to. Those heroes had names and faces.

Phil had been gently nudging Clint and River (mostly Clint) in that direction for the last few months. Now the matter was being forced, but really it was just speeding up the inevitable. 

“What do you mean it _will_ hit the news?” River asked. “The networks aren’t on it already?”

“Oh, they are,” Phil said. “The morning programs are all over the internet stuff, but they’re playing it cool until they get official confirmation. SHIELD is working up a press release that will go out this afternoon. Vasquez is dealing with it now. We can’t put the genie back into the bottle, but we can take control of it and diffuse the situation. SHIELD will confirm the information and make it worthless as leverage.”

“Poor woman. Talk about a trial by fire,” River said.

Phil nodded in agreement. After Washington DC, Phil had gone to Fury and made it clear that Miller had to go, preferably to a place where he didn’t have to interact with other human beings. Then Phil and Agent Lin had put their heads together to pick a new Avengers representative from the SHIELD Public Relations Department. Denise Vasquez had been on the job all of a week, but the last time Phil had looked in, she and Lin had been coping well.

“I want you guys to put this into perspective,” Phil said, though he was mainly talking to Clint, who was frowning down at his mug like he’d just seen something unsavory floating in his coffee. “There are plenty of people out there already who know who you are. Everyone on this base, agents and staff, know about you. That means half of the surrounding town probably knows.” The suburban sprawl near SHIELD Headquarters was, in many ways, a company town. The base was one of the area’s biggest employers. “People saw you at St. Mark’s Hospital, before and after the Moon landing. People saw you in DC. Clint, Barney found you through the news coverage. His wife and kids know. I get the impression that Lisa runs a pretty tight ship, but how long can we reasonably expect a thirteen-year-old and a ten-year-old to keep that kind of secret?” 

Clint nodded, then suddenly looked dismayed. “Oh, shit. Barney and Lisa. We’d better warn them before some intrepid reporter tracks them down.”

“We’re already on it,” Phil assured him. “SHIELD will make sure they’re not bothered. Look guys, I know that this might feel like a big, scary leap,” Phil added, “but it isn’t. We’ve been moving toward this point for a while. This is just the final step. And however bad you think it’s going to be, I promise you it won’t be. Clint? Do you hear me?”

“Yeah. I hear you.”

Phil knew that tone. Clint was trying very hard not to sound doubtful. River looked a little more sanguine over the whole thing. It took a lot to ruffle River’s feathers. Fortunately, she was also very good at smoothing down Clint’s.

“We’ll watch the coverage together this evening,” Phil said. “You’ll see.”

*****

Neither River nor Clint was anxious to face up to their new public status. So, in the name of sticking their heads in the sand for a while, they decided to hit the beach.

SHIELD Headquarters owed its sprawling semi-rural campus to the fact that the Founders had bought up a huge swath of eastern Long Island back in the 1950s when it had been nothing but farmland as far as the eye could see. Among other things, this meant that one of the base’s amenities was a private stretch of beach. The south shore of Long Island wasn’t the most hospitable place in November, but Clint and River bundled up and went anyway. They spent the morning walking along the water line and examining interesting bits of flotsam and jetsam that had come in on the tide. By unspoken mutual agreement, they didn’t talk about the leak.

At noon they had to vacate the beach because one of the amphibious assault teams had booked it for drills with live ammo. River and Clint decided to risk recognition and drove into town for burgers at their favorite diner. Clint finally cracked over the ice cream sundaes. 

“People could find us now, you know,” he said.

“People?” River swirled her spoon through her sundae, creating a chain of infinity loops in the whipped cream. “Like Barney?”

“Like any of the criminal syndicates, warlords, and psychopaths we’ve crossed over the years.” Clint had only eaten half of his burger and hadn’t done much more than play with his ice cream, which was a clear giveaway that he was genuinely worried. “Once this news story breaks they’re going to know our names, what we look like, and where we work. You’re not worried?”

“You’re a distance operative. Most of them have never come close to seeing your face. They won’t connect you to those missions.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

River did know it. Clint had always worried more about her than himself, and unlike Clint, River wasn’t a distance operative. She did the close-up work. People had seen her face, and some of those people were still out there. Forget SHIELD missions, River had crossed a lot of people as a freelancer.

“I won’t say that I’m not worried,” she admitted. You didn’t reach River’s age in their business without a healthy sense of paranoia. “But like Phil said, we need to keep things in perspective. We’re a part of something bigger now. If we were still just Strike Team Delta, I might be more concerned, but we’re not. We’re Avengers. Frankly, the average former mark with a grudge would have to be suicidal to make a move on us.”

River and Clint wouldn’t have been easy targets to begin with. With Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, and the Hulk to back them, they were downright strategically undesirable. 

“All it takes is one suicidal psycho,” Clint said grimly.

“And if one of those comes out of the woodwork, we will make him regret that he was ever born.” River felt her mouth set in determination. “Our other option is to run away and go into hiding, and you and I aren’t built for that. It’s our job to protect people and we will do that, crime bosses, psychopaths, and computer hackers be damned. We apparently can’t do anything about this leak, but we can decide how much power we let it have over us. Our lives might get more complicated because of it, but our lives were never simple to begin with. So, in the immortal words of Rubeus Hagrid, what’s coming will come, and we’ll meet it when it does.”

Clint was staring at her in a manner that some might call awe.

“You. . .” He shook his head, seemingly at a loss for words. “You are _such_ a geek.”

River grinned broadly. “It takes one to know one, sweetie.”

“My God. Not even a Dumbledore quote. You went for Hagrid.”

“Yes, I did. And it’s true. Do you need to hear it again with more feeling? I am not above a west country accent and a fake beard.”

Clint lost it at that point, laughing way harder than the joke warranted. He reined it in when other customers started turning to stare.

“I think I needed that,” he said, wiping his eyes.

 _I know you did,_ River thought, smiling with satisfaction as Clint picked up his spoon and dug into his ice cream.

The dreaded broadcasts were supposed to air at six o’clock. Phil arrived at their quarters at 5:40 PM, and he wasn’t alone.

“Steve?” River opened the door wider as Steve followed Phil inside. “I thought you were in Brooklyn.”

“I was,” Steve said. “I decided to come back early.”

“You came back to watch the news with us?” Clint asked.

Steve just shrugged, looking slightly sheepish.

“I told him I didn’t think you’d mind,” Phil said. 

“We don’t mind at all,” River replied.

River would have thought that her long, odd life would have left her immune to surreal experiences, but hearing herself being openly discussed by name on the nightly news was still strange. The report wasn’t long, and it was fairly benign; far more human interest than scandalous expose. River recognized the SHIELD stamp on it. 

“. . .though the Avengers that we’ve known only as Hawkeye and Talon have remained in the background up to this point, we are pleased to now be able to shed some light on these two Heroes of New York.

“We might find ourselves wondering how these two apparently unassuming people have been placed on the playing field with the likes of Captain Steve Rogers and Tony Stark,” the anchor said. Clint and River’s SHIELD ID photos were superimposed in the upper right-hand corner of the screen. “We need look no further than their records and their lists of skills. According to their service records, Agents Clint Barton and River Song are both veteran and decorated agents of SHIELD.”

“Agent Barton was recruited by SHIELD from the US Army thanks to his exceptional marksmanship skills. Those skills go beyond firearms, as anyone who has seen the coverage of the Battle of New York will know. Agent Barton’s preferred weapon is a recurve bow. And what’s very interesting is that he developed his skills as a circus performer. As a teenager. . .”

Clint sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Great. Just great.”

“At least they left out the part about you being thrown into military prison,” Phil said. 

“And at least they didn’t dig up a picture of you in costume,” Steve added.

The anchor was still going strong. “Agent Song is British, born in Scotland. In addition to being highly trained in hand-to-hand combat, she is also a hyperpolyglot, fluent in two dozen languages.”

Clint snorted. “Oh, if you guys only knew.”

“Their commitment to service also extends outside of their employment with SHIELD and their membership in the Avengers. Agent Barton is a volunteer with the Assisi Society animal rescue organization. Agent Song teaches self-defense to local area Girl Scout troops.

“And there you have it,” the anchor said, with the air of coming to a solid, pleasing conclusion tied up in a pretty bow. “Not all superheroes wear capes and iron suits. Next up, what the political situation in Sokovia can tell us about relations between former Soviet states and. . .”

It was more of the same on other networks. Phil flipped through three of them before River commandeered the remote and shut off the television. 

“Well. That could have been more painful, I suppose,” she said.

River almost hated to admit that Phil had been right; it hadn’t been so bad. Their names were out and their faces. Yes, that was a little disconcerting, but the information in the statement was harmless. River gave silent thanks for the fact that her more sensitive records were safe on Fury’s private server and all but impossible to hack.

“Who wants another beer?” Clint asked. He got up and went to the kitchen before anyone could answer. 

“Give it a few days, maybe a week,” Phil said. “This will blow over and it’ll be old news.”

“I think you’re being a little overly optimistic, Phil,” River said. “Maybe ninety-nine percent of people will stop caring after a few days, but that doesn’t mean that the whole thing is just going to go away.”

“No, it’s never going to go away,” Steve agreed. “But you’ll get used to it. And Stark said to tell you that if you say the word, he’s prepared to do something outrageous to distract the press.”

“Seriously?” Clint asked, plopping back down on the sofa and setting the new round of beers on the coffee table.

“If you want him to,” Steve said. “I think it’s his way of trying to be a good teammate.”

“Let’s hold off on outrageousness, please. I have enough paperwork on my desk as it is,” Phil said.

“But tell Tony we appreciate the thought,” River added. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And I’ll let him know if we need the big guns.”

Being a public Avenger would take some getting used to, but it was nice to know that she and Clint had a team at their backs.

*****

_Monday_

By the next day it felt like the whole world knew, though Clint was willing to concede that that might be his inner panic attempting to scream around the gag. That didn’t change the fact, though, that Clint and River both woke up to a lot of messages.

At the top of Clint’s inbox was an email from Barney. They had been emailing each other a couple of times a week, mostly about trivial stuff. This one was a little different. _Hey, Clint. We saw the news. Not sure how that got out, but I wanted you to know it wasn’t us. We haven’t said anything to anyone._

Clint quickly hit “Reply.” _Hey, man. Don’t worry. We know you didn’t tell anyone. Phil says--_ Clint backspaced. _Agent Coulson says SHIELD will keep the press off your back._ He hesitated for a moment. _Tell Lisa and the kids we said hi._

He and River also had messages from Amy and Rory. 

“Rory says it was on the news over there, too,” Clint said, scanning his email.

“Amy says the same.” River had her own laptop open in her lap. Clint saw her raise an eyebrow. “She wants me to call her when I get a chance.”

“Yeah?” 

“She says, _I’m pretty sure airing that news wasn’t your idea. Is it weird to say, ‘Call your mother?’ I don’t care. Call me when you can. Let me know what’s going on.”_

Clint didn’t miss the happy note in her voice. River and Amy hadn’t spoken since Demons Run. Of all the people who had been caught up in that mess, Amy was the one who had been left with the biggest pile of shit to work through. Her child had been kidnapped. Then, right on the heels of that, she’d learned that she was never going to see her baby again because that baby had grown up into her friend, River. 

Understandably, Amy had been upset. Her grief and anger had many targets, but River had been right in the bullseye. It had been only in the last few weeks that Amy had started to reach out to River via text and email. Wanting to actually talk was a big step.

If this news expose was the thing that got Amy back on speaking terms with River, maybe the whole thing was worth it. 

“You’re going to call now?” Clint asked as River picked up her phone.

“Yeah. It’s around lunchtime in London. It’s probably a good time to catch her.”

Clint went to shower to give River a little privacy. He didn’t figure it would be a long call and, sure enough, when he emerged fifteen minutes later River was off the phone and puttering around the bedroom. She was humming, always a sure sign that she was in a good mood. 

So at least something was going right. Clint wondered if this was what it was like to have one of those extended families who were always checking up on each other. 

They day went downhill from there. 

Everyone on the base must have seen the news. The Avengers novelty had worn off at Headquarters over the last couple of months, thank God. But as Clint went about his day he noticed that the stares were back. Yeah, the other agents and personnel already knew who Hawkeye and Talon were, but being a news headline was something else again. And, just Clint’s luck, Grant Fucking Ward was passing through HQ in between assignments. 

Ward fell into step with Clint while he was on his way to the range. “So, is this a good time to ask for an autograph?”

“Piss off, Ward,” Clint said.

“Relax, man. I’m just teasing.”

Clint grunted in response, hoping that Ward would take the hint and go anywhere else. Ward always made him feel like his entire body was bristling. Something about the guy rubbed him the wrong way, and always had. That instinctive aversion had been aggravated by the fact that, back when they were both new recruits, people had kept pushing Clint to be friends with Ward because they “had so much in common.” 

Clint had known enough about Ward’s background to not appreciate the comparison. Arson? Attempted murder? Setting fire to the family home while his brother was in it? Clint and Barney may have had their issues, but neither of them had ever tried to burn the other alive.

Fairly or not, Clint just did not like the other man. Fortunately, as they rounded a corner together, Clint spotted a familiar figure up ahead.

“Shit, you know what? I need to catch him about something,” Clint said, nodding at the figure in question and picking up his pace, moving ahead of Ward. “Gotta go. Good luck . . . wherever you’re heading next.”

“Belgium,” Ward called after him. 

Clint gave him a thumb’s up without turning around and fell into step with Agent Peter Stone. “Stone. How’s it going?”

“Barton.” If Agent Stone had noticed any of the byplay with Ward he gave no sign. “Well enough. Still trying to figure out where to get a decent pint in this town.”

Agent Stone was one of the latest of a large wave of SHIELD agents and staff to have transferred into the New York Headquarters in recent months. Clint, River, and Phil had crossed paths with the Englishman off and on for the past several years, and Stone and Phil actually went way back. Stone was about the same age as Phil, but looked a good ten years older and had a slightly bulldoggish appearance and manner. He was a nice guy, though. Clint was happy to have him on base. 

“Talk to River. She has all of the best intel,” Clint said.

“I’ll do that. I wanted to say congratulations, anyway. I heard through the Headquarters’ grapevine that the two of you are getting married.”

“We are if we can ever find time for the damn wedding,” Clint said ruefully.

Sure, he and River could just sign some papers and make it legal, but they both wanted the day to be kind of special, even if “special” just meant having their friends and what amounted to their families present. That was easier said than done. Everyone’s schedules were crazy these days, and then Demons Run had slowed things down a bit. River really wanted Amy and Rory to be there, and they were all just now getting back onto speaking terms.

“Well, I for one am happy for you,” Stone said. “The kind of odds the two of you have beat? You deserve a good life together.”

Clint had to admit that he was a little surprised at Stone’s blunt endorsement of his impending matrimonial state. For as long as Clint had known him, Stone had had _married to the job, no time for families_ practically tattooed on his forehead. He would have been less surprised if the older man had gently scoffed.

“Thanks,” Clint said. Something in Stone’s words itched at his brain though, for some reason. Not so much in that he’d said it as _how_ he’d said it. Before he could examine it closely, though, Clint’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw River’s name on the screen.

“Sorry. I need to grab this.” Clint answered the call. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Do you have a second to talk?” River asked.

“Yeah.” Clint frowned. She sounded a little out of breath. “Is something wrong?”

“I just got a call from May,” River said. “They caught the Rising Tide hacker who leaked our names. They’re bringing her in.”

*****

May and Bobbi landed at Headquarters at 2130 hours. Clint and River staked out a good spot on a catwalk in the hanger to watch their arrival. River knew that Bobbi had started a preliminary interrogation on the flight, and she had sent River what few details they had gleaned so far. Skye No-Last-Name was escorted off the Quinjet in handcuffs flanked by Bobbi and May. River wondered if the girl had any idea how many murderers, war criminals, and general walking, talking pieces of bad news had been in that position before her.

“That’s not what I was expecting,” Clint said as they watched the little parade.

“What were you expecting?” River asked.

Clint tilted his head. “Not someone who looks like she should be organizing a sorority mixer.”

He had a point. This Skye did not look like the hardened criminal type. Still.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” she pointed out. River herself was a prime example of that.

“Yeah. I know.”

May looked up and spotted River and Clint as they passed under the catwalk. She said a quick word to Bobbi, then broke off from escort duty and headed for the stairs. She joined River and Clint on the catwalk a moment later. 

“You two are not even remotely subtle, you know,” she said.

She was poking fun rather than scolding, though some people would be hard pressed to hear a difference. May could do _seriously understated amusement_ even better than River could. It was one of the reasons why so many people mistakenly assumed she had no sense of humor. 

“In fairness, we weren’t really trying to be,” River replied.

“Yeah.” Clint folded his arms. “Have we gotten any useful intel out of her yet?”

“She hasn’t given up any of her co-conspirators, but she’s barely been in custody for six hours. Of course, with a group like the Rising Tide, she may not even know who they are,” May said. “Almost all contact between them is online from what we can tell. We confiscated her laptop, but it’s heavily encrypted. SHIELD Tech will take a crack at it.”

“Are there any indications that someone hired her to hack SHIELD?” Clint asked. 

“No.” May sounded very sure of herself. “This one definitely isn’t a mercenary. She’s been living in a van for the past eighteen months; she’s not hacking for money. Also, I had to listen to her manifesto on the flight back to Headquarters. It’s all very _freedom of information_ and how it can’t be owned. She has some issues SHIELD’s disclosure policies.”

“That sounds like a fun trip,” River said. “So, Clint and I were just the means to an ideological end? Unmask a couple of Avengers and stick it to SHIELD at the same time?”

“Partly. But she didn’t target you two at random.” May smiled. “She’s a fan.”

Clint tiredly rubbed his hands over his face. “Please be kidding.”

“I’m afraid not. She’s a superhero groupie.” Yeah, May definitely found this funny. “She went looking for her heroes.”

“I want that word banned,” Clint said. “So, why can’t we just ship her nosy ass straight to the Fridge? We really want to give her access to Headquarters?”

“Fury’s orders,” May said. 

“Why?”

River beat May to the punch. “Fury wants to see if she’s a good recruitment prospect.”

May nodded in confirmation.

Clint looked from River to May. “Oh, you have got to be shitting me.”

“She’s good,” May said with a shrug. “To breach SHIELD, she’d have to be. If SHIELD determines that she’s redeemable, she would be a valuable asset.”

“I certainly can’t argue with that precedent,” River said wryly. It was how she had been recruited by SHIELD.

“We’ll have a better idea after she’s been processed and the real interrogations start,” May said. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you guys posted.”

*****

_Tuesday_

On Tuesday, Clint had his appointment with Dr. Gordon. 

Ever since the Battle of New York, Clint had spent more time than he cared to think about meeting with the SHIELD Psych Department. It had been a mandatory condition of his being allowed to go back on the active duty roster. His clearance had been granted months ago, but ongoing weekly counselling sessions were still “highly encouraged.” So, every Tuesday morning for the past six months, Clint sat down across from Gordon and struggled through an hour-long conversation about how he was processing all the recent complications in his life. 

Gordon got right down to business today. “I saw the news on Sunday.”

“You and everyone else,” Clint muttered.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Oh, I feel great.” Clint pushed himself up a little in his chair. “I can’t wait to go on Oprah.”

“Now that would be a sight,” Gordon said. “Your habit of using sarcasm to avoid talking about uncomfortable topics is undimmed, I see.”

“Thanks. I’m touched that you noticed.”

Gordon chuckled and marked something on his notepad. Clint had a suspicion that Gordon played tic-tac-toe with himself during these little sessions. “What your choice of smartass remark tells me is that you fear even greater exposure than this.”

Clint grunted. Let Gordon read something into that.

“Ever since we first started meeting, you’ve been dealing with fears about being exposed as an Avenger. Now that’s happened. I think we should talk about it.”

“It isn’t _fear_.” Clint bristled slightly. “I’d just rather remain anonymous. It’s safer.”

“May I make an observation?”

“Why do you even bother to ask when you’re going to make it no matter what I say?”

“The idea of exposure--of everyone knowing that Clint Barton is Hawkeye, one of the Avengers—scares you because you believe that anyone who looks too closely at you won’t like what they see. You fear being a disappointment.” Gordon smiled kindly. “You really sell yourself way too short, Agent Barton.”

“Yeah. Well.” God, they needed a new topic. “It doesn’t matter now. The information leaked. SHIELD busted the person who did it. She’s in custody.”

“And if you could talk to her right now, what would you say?”

Clint opened his mouth to deliver a snarky retort, but it never manifested.

“Agent Barton?” Gordon frowned at his uncharacteristic lack of a comeback. “Is everything all right?”

“It’s fine,” Clint said. “You just gave me an idea, that’s all.”

*****

This was not the first time Skye had been on the wrong side of the law. Her first time being busted by a scary government agency? Yes. The first time she’d had a bag pulled over her head, been thrown onto an airplane, and flown across the country? Yes. The first time she’d been issued a prisoner’s uniform and given her very own cell? Yes. But not the first time she’d courted those particular dangers.

 _This is what we do. This is the price we pay to make sure people know the truth._ The members of the Rising Tide were modern-day revolutionaries; that’s what Miles always said. Being a revolutionary wasn’t safe. Yeah, this looked grim, but now she was in the belly of the SHIELD beast. If she played her cards right, she could do a lot for the Rising Tide’s cause here.

Skye had spent the night telling herself that to keep the panic at bay, because seriously? Bags. Planes. Government agents. Now she was in a cell in an undisclosed location and no one she knew had a clue where she was. And that one agent, Morse, had just given her a disbelieving look when she’d asked about a lawyer. 

Yeah, as far as trouble she’d been in went, this was definitely a benchmark.

She’d been left alone for the most part. She’s spent the night napping fitfully on the cot. A guard had brought her a couple of uninspiring meals. The agents who had brought her in had said something about interrogation, but no one had turned up to talk to her yet, and Skye was torn between being glad to put that off and fearing that she was going to die of boredom alone in this little cinderblock room.

Skye sat up on the cot when she heard the lock turn over and the door of her cell swung open. Agent Morse stood in the doorway.

“Come on. Get up,” she said. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

Skye gulped. It was probably her imagination, but the sound seemed to echo in the little cell.

It looked like the boredom was over.

*****

Dr. Gordon was right. Clint did have a few things to get off his chest when it came to their Rising Tide hacker. But since she was sitting in Detention, Clint didn’t see why he should waste those things in a counseling session.

River had wanted in when she heard his plan. Clint didn’t think Phil would approve, so he went to May instead. As the agent who had made the arrest, May could grant them access to the prisoner. She’d been happy to help Clint and River out. May really didn’t take kindly to the whole “hack into SHIELD” business.

Clint stood behind the one-way mirror, looking into Interrogation Room 7. Bobbi and the guards had deposited Skye there forty minutes ago and left her alone to wait. And think. It was a classic interrogation tactic. Clint was not above a little mild mind-fuckery, plus this gave him and River time to read over SHIELD’s file on her, what little of it there was. _Skye No-Last-Name_ had practically nothing in the way of official records. According to her intake interview, she’d wiped them herself. 

She looked very out of place in the drab grey prisoner’s uniform and there were some signs of strain showing. The corners of her mouth were pulled tight and she couldn’t keep her fingers still. Clint wondered if it was starting to dawn on her exactly how deeply she was in the shit.

“How long are you going to let her stew?” May asked. 

“I think we’re probably good,” Clint said. He turned to River, who was sitting at the small table reading the file. “You ready?”

“I am.” River flipped the file closed and handed it back to May. “This won’t take long.”

*****

They were doing this deliberately, Skye thought. They had to be. The whole “stick you in a room and make you wait” thing? They were trying to mess with her head.

They were succeeding. She hated waiting. 

Eventually, someone was going to come in and start asking her questions. Skye hoped it would be Agent Morse. Yeah, she was intimidating (just the height alone), but she came across as less of a government programmed automaton that the other agents and guards Skye had encountered so far.

By the time the door of the interrogation room finally opened, Skye was so on edge she immediately blurted, “Look, I think there’s been some kind of mistake. . .”

She trailed off and her eyes went wide as the two agents, a man and a woman, came to stand in front of her table. She knew them. Well, she knew their faces from the pictures in their files. Agent Clint Barton and Agent River Song. Hawkeye and Talon.

“Oh, my God.” Skye stood up. “It’s you. You guys are--”

“Sit. Down,” Agent Barton ordered.

Skye sat so fast that her chair skidded a few inches to the right. Wow, he sounded ticked off. Skye automatically looked at Agent Song, wondering if she was going to be the good cop here. But Agent Song, with her folded arms and cool gaze, mostly reminded Skye of Sister Brigid, the headmistress at St. Agnes’ Children’s Home. Agent Song didn’t look to be much older than Skye, so the fact that she could pull off that look was kind of impressive.

“Right. So.” Skye folded her hands on the table, trying not to look nervous. “I’m guessing you guys have some questions for me?”

“We’re not here to ask you any questions,” Agent Barton said.

“In fact, you don’t have to say anything at all,” Agent Song added.

An interrogation where the interrogate-ee wasn’t supposed to talk? Skye wasn’t an expert, but she did not have a warm and fuzzy feeling about that.

“That’s right. You’re just going to sit there and listen,” Agent Barton said. “We have a couple of bones to pick with you.”

*****

River let Clint take the lead on this one. It was his idea, after all, and the man was surprisingly good at delivering a dressing down.

“I’m not going to ask you if you have any idea what the fuck you did when you leaked that data,” Clint said to Skye. He paced back and forth in front of the table, restless energy in contrast to River’s still and quiet presence. “I know what you _thought_ you were doing. Lone Truth Ranger going up against the big bad government agency, right? Shit like this is all fun and games with a side of self-righteousness for people like you.”

“That wasn’t why--” Skye started to say.

“Quiet.” His tone made her mouth snap shut again. “Now, I’m going to hazard a guess that your grasp of military strategy is based on playing World of Warcraft or some such shit, so let me clue you in to how this works in real life. Classified information is classified for a reason. It keeps people safe. It kept me and my partner safe. At least it did until you dug into our personal business and aired it to the public. Forget the fact that it was just fucking rude, you compromised our security.”

“The information about you that I put out there wasn’t anything--”

“Sensitive? That’s not for you to decide,” Clint said. “You have no clue what could or couldn’t compromise us. I can promise you one thing. If anything happens to my partner because of what you did, I’ll dig a shallow grave for you myself. Understand?”

*****

May couldn’t say that she knew Barton very well. They had crossed paths professionally a handful of times, and from that she’d classified him as the quiet type. It was always kind of nice to meet a kindred spirit in that respect. She also knew about him through River. River had become a good friend of May’s over the years, and the picture that the young woman painted of Barton was of a good-natured man who was far more intelligent than he liked to let on.

Watching Barton go on an angry tirade was a new layer to the onion. It was an interesting show to watch.

A few seconds after Barton got started, the door of the observation room quietly opened and closed, and Phil Coulson joined May at the one-way mirror. 

“Well, I’ll give her this,” Phil said at one point during Barton’s lecture. “She hasn’t burst into tears yet.”

“She has some backbone,” May replied. “She didn’t crumble when we arrested her, either.” Whether the girl had enough integrity to be considered for entry into SHIELD remained to be seen. “Barton and Song seems to be taking this personally.”

“We all are,” Phil replied. He looked at May with a wry smile. “You think I just happened to be in the neighborhood?”

May laughed softly. “You can go in and join them. Though I’m not sure it’s fair to unleash all three of you on her.”

Phil shook his head. “No. I think they’ve got this handled.”

*****

“We’ve read your file too, you know,” River told Skye. Clint had wrapped the _well-aimed fury_ portion of this interview. Now they had moved on to _calm-and-clipped British scolding._ “What little there is of it. You managed to erase yourself from existence. That’s a drastic move. You clearly didn’t want anyone rooting around in your personal affairs. And yet you had no compunction about doing precisely that to two complete strangers who, as far as you knew, were guilty of no wrong doing. Your reasons weren’t noble. You did it for the notoriety of being the one to reveal the identities of Hawkeye and Talon. Now we’re stuck with the consequences.”

Skye was staring at her hands. She mumbled something.

“Pardon? You’ll have to speak up. I can’t hear you.”

Skye took a deep breath, raised her head, and looked River in the eye. “I’m sorry,” she said.

She meant it. River had decades of training and experience at being able to read the most minute expressions, determining if she was being lied to. She needed absolutely none of that experience now. Skye’s guilt was written all over her face.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I didn’t think about . . . any of that security stuff. But I didn’t out you guys because I thought you were trying to get away with something or to make some kind of name for myself.”

“Then why, pray tell, did you do it?”

“Because. . .” Skye shook her head. River wondered if she had even thought out her motives before now. “Part of hacking in was to see if I could do it. It’s SHIELD. It was a challenge. And then once I was in I found out I could access parts of your files. It all seemed like harmless stuff, so I released it. I didn’t really stop to think how it would affect you. It was just that, once I saw your files, I thought people should know more about you.”

“Why?” Clint asked. 

Skye looked honestly shocked. 

“Because you’re awesome,” she said, and if it weren’t for the painful sincerity the girl embodied, River would have suspected that she was taking the piss out of them. “Everyone already knows that you’re heroes. They know that you saved New York and that hospital that got beamed to the Moon. But they didn’t know that you go out and rescue dogs,” she said to Clint. “Or that you teach girls martial arts and how not to take crap off of anyone,” she added to River. “People out there in the real world? We need heroes like that. Don’t you know that?”

River looked to Clint. It appeared that he didn’t quite know how to answer that, either. He shook his head and went to the intercom by the door. “Guard? We’re done here.”

*****

Phil suppressed a smile at the guilty looks on Clint and River’s faces when they came into the observation room and found him waiting with May.

“We should get the two of you in the interrogation room more often,” May said to them. “I feel sorry for your future teenage children.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “When did you get here?” he asked Phil.

“I came in somewhere around _Lone Truth Ranger,_ ” Phil replied. “So, do you two feel better?”

“Honestly? Yes, I rather do,” River said.

“Yeah, Phil, you’re not supposed to hold in negative emotions. It’ll give you ulcers and shit,” Clint added.

“Duly noted.”

“Just for the record, I recorded that,” May said. “Fury will probably find it useful when he makes his assessment.”

“He’s still thinking recruitment, huh?” Clint said.

“He is,” May replied. “She’s good at what she does, and it’s looking more and more like her motives weren’t hostile.”

Phil nodded in agreement. “She’d hardly be the first person to let misguided passion cause her to make some bad decisions. She wouldn’t even be the first SHIELD recruit.” Phil looked back and forth between Clint and River. “How do the two of you feel about that?”

Clint just shrugged. River spoke for both of them. “I suppose it would be somewhat hypocritical of us to deny someone a second chance with SHIELD. Assuming, of course, that proper security measures are taken.”

“I’ll pass your recommendations on to Fury,” Phil said with a smile. “Thank you, agents.”

*****

_Thursday_

On Thursday, Clint escaped from the base for a while and headed over to the Assisi Society. In case he needed another reason to love animals, they tended not to watch or care about the news. Clint swung through the offices at the animal rescue, poking his head into Wendy’s office. The director and founder of the Assisi Society was working busily at her computer, but she looked up with a smile when she saw Clint.

“Hello, Clint.”

“Hey, Wendy. Anything special you need me to do today, or should I just check the whiteboard?”

“Whiteboard is fine, but can you come in for a second?”

“Sure.” Clint came into the cramped office and flopped down in the single guest chair. “What’s up?”

Wendy turned away from her computer and gave Clint a motherly smile. “So. Hawkeye.”

“Yeah.” Clint was starting to get over the urge to squirm over this. “Guilty. I guess you saw the news.”

“The news?” Wendy gave Clint a tolerant look over the tops of her glasses. “Sweetheart, I’ve known you were an Avenger ever since the Battle of New York.”

“You have?” Clint frowned. “Did someone from the base tell you?”

Lots of SHIELD personnel volunteered here and so help him, if someone had been blabbing classified information. . .

“No. No one from the base needed to tell me,” Wendy said. “Shall I dazzle you with my powers of deduction?” She started to list off points on her fingers. “You called me after the Battle to let me know that you were back on base, but you were healing up from some injuries. You couldn’t come out to the adoption event a couple of weeks ago because you had to go to DC. . .where a pair of giant statues appeared out of thin air and the Avengers turned up to deal with it. 

“Now, granted, those could be coincidences, but consider the other evidence. Hawkeye’s an archer. You’re an archer. I know because you were instrumental in helping me find a good place to buy lessons for my nephew for his bar mitzvah. And last, but most compelling, I’ve heard some of the other SHIELD volunteers call you Hawkeye.”

Clint was almost grinning by the end. “I think you might have missed your calling there, Sherlock,” he said. He sobered a bit. “Is the Avenger thing going to be a problem? I can still volunteer here, right?”

“Of course, you can. I didn’t call you in here because you’re in trouble.” Wendy opened her desk drawer. “I just thought you should see these.”

Clint frowned in confusion at the handful of checks Wendy handed him. He flipped through them. They were all donations to the rescue, some of them pretty sizeable. It took him a few seconds to think to check the memos. _Hawkeye._

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” Wendy said. “That’s just what came in the mail yesterday. You should see the online donations. If you get a chance, thank whoever had us mentioned by name on the news. If this keeps up, we may be able to buy that property to expand after all.”

“I’ll do that,” Clint said.

*****

_Monday Again_

Her new quarters weren’t exactly the Four Seasons. (Not that Skye had much of an idea what a Four Seasons was like on the inside. Most of the time the money she could scrape together wouldn’t even cover a Holiday Inn.) But the small room with its closet-sized bathroom was definitely a step up from her detention cell. 

She had moved in this morning under the watchful eye of Agent May. Agent May, as Skye had been informed, would be responsible for her for the foreseeable future. Skye wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but it had been part of the bargain she’d been given. She would start working for SHEILD as a probationary agent (aka, the lowest of the low) and SHIELD wouldn’t prosecute her and lock her away in some undisclosed hole in the ground.

All in all, Skye was okay with this bargain. Yeah, there were some really annoying strings attached. The biggest one was the metal cuff around her right wrist that ensured she wouldn’t be able to do anything more interesting than play solitaire on a computer without supervision. She also wasn’t getting off this base anytime soon.

But those conditions were temporary. On the upside, she was here. She was at SHIELD. Hell, she was Avengers adjacent. How cool was that? And SHIELD wasn’t entirely made up of hard-asses. They had been nice enough to bring her van out from L.A. Yeah, they probably wanted to scrub it for incriminating information, and she wouldn’t be able to drive it anywhere right now, but she’d been allowed to get her belongings out of it. 

She wished she could send a message to her friends in the Rising Tide. Miles, Armistice, Madame K., Sphinx7, they would probably be worried when she just dropped off the face of the internet. May had offered to let Skye contact any “next of kin or interested parties” while under her supervision, but that would mean outing them to SHIELD. Skye reminded herself that this was the nature of virtual communities, and she would make it up to them later. 

Skye finished putting her clothes away in the small dresser. Then, just for the hell of it, rearranged everything in different drawers. She was supposed to wait here until someone came to collect her and take her. . .somewhere. Work? Class? New student orientation? That hadn’t been clear. 

When the knock finally came, Skye all but leapt for the door. She was greeted by an agent she hadn’t met before, a bald man wearing glasses. 

“Ms. . .Skye?” The man looked up from his clipboard. “I’m Agent Sitwell. I’ll be walking you through your recruitment paperwork. Follow me.”

*****

River and Clint were staked out on yet another catwalk as Skye was led through the Administration Building.

“Recruitment paperwork. I can almost find it in me to feel bad for her,” Clint said as he watched River trail behind Sitwell. He looked at River. “You really think this is a good idea?”

“Time will tell, I suppose,” River replied. “At any rate, it’s rather out of our hands.” Her phone buzzed and she fished it out of her pocket. She frowned at the screen.

“What is it?”

“A text from Fury. He wants us in his office ASAP. The Doctor is here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Why has the Doctor come to SHIELD? Tune in next time to find out!


End file.
